


experimental data regarding the kissing of guys

by tryslora



Series: 12 Days of Tropemas 2018 [11]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 12DaysOfTropemas, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexuality, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 06:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17278904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: Holster's been wondering if it would be different to kiss a guy. One specific guy. Who he is very surprised to find out has already kissed other guys.





	experimental data regarding the kissing of guys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [treefrogie84](https://archiveofourown.org/users/treefrogie84/gifts).



> This was written for day 10 of Tropemas, for the trope Enemies or Friends to Lovers.

“Been thinking.” Holster perches on Ransom’s desk at work because hey, it’s past three on a Friday and he’s already thinking ahead to the weekend.

Ransom reaches up, nudges him an inch to the left so he can extract the papers that Holster sat on. “About what?” he mutters. His pen scratches across a paper, then he turns his attention to the screen instead, typing numbers in.

It’s a spreadsheet, and it’s a damned gorgeous spreadsheet at that, but Holster can’t let himself get distracted.

“I’ve just been wondering,” Holster says, and when Ransom grunts something that sounds like go on, he does, musing, “whether it would be different kissing a guy.”

“Not really,” Ransom says, leaning forward to peer at his screen. He frowns, then clicks into a different cell, rechecks the papers, and makes a minor adjustment.

Holster sets down the stapler he’d just picked up. “Not… really? Is this a hypothesis or do you have experimental data for this conclusion?”

“Data,” Ransom mutters.

Holster puts a hand over Ransom’s screen, waits for Ransom to sit upright and grab him, trying to peel his fingers from the screen. “Adam,” Ransom says darkly. “I need to get this finished by five if we want to get out of here on time and on the train down to Providence.”

“Justin,” Holster says, mimicking the exact tone. “You know I love spreadsheets and agree that they generally supersede all other things, so…. I will leave you alone to do exactly that as long as you first tell me exactly when and how you got this experimental data regarding the kissing of guys versus girls.”

Ransom blinks. “What?” His gaze shifts upward, and Holster can see him mentally rewind and replay the conversation. “Oh.” His voice is low. “That.”

“That,” Holster agrees.

Holster has seen Ransom at his most focused: trying to pass organic chemistry, on the ice, studying for the MCATs before he decided that med school wasn’t going to be his thing. That has nothing on this moment and the piercing, calculating gaze that Ransom has fixed on him.

Ransom huffs and shoves Holster. “I’ll make you a deal. Leave me alone to finish this and we can leave at four and talk back at the apartment before we get on the train to Providence.”

Holster slides off the desk, nudges his glasses up his nose as he leans in close to Ransom. “I’m going to hold you to that,” he says.

Ransom’s gaze has already slid back to the spreadsheet. “I know,” he mutters.

There’s something else and Holster can’t really hear it, not well enough to be sure, but he swears Ransom mutters, “We’re going to be late to the game.”

As if anything would make them late to one of Jack’s games.

#

Ransom packed before they left for work, so of course he stands in the doorway to Holster’s room watching as Holster grabs clothes and pajamas to stuff into his backpack for the overnight at Jack’s place.

Holster finishes shoving it all in and drops it on the floor before motioning to Ransom to come into the room. When Holster sits on the bed, Ransom sits more slowly, leaving a good foot of space between them.

Which…. Weird.

“Best friend sundaes on the way to the train?” Holster asks. He means to be more cheerful, but it comes out subdued.

Ransom licks his lips and shakes his head. “Not really in the mood. Besides. You had questions.”

This is not normal. Things are easy between them. Have been since they first day they met back in Faber, when they went out on the ice and clicked like the epic defensive team they are. “You kissed a guy,” Holster says, and he doesn’t bother making it a question since Ransom’s already said so.

“More than once,” Ransom admits.

And that… that just hurts. Holster stands up, spreads his hands wide. “We’ve been best friends for six years now and you’re only just getting around to telling me you’re bi?” His voice is louder than he intends, which isn’t surprising or unusual, but he doesn’t like the way it makes Ransom wince.

“It would’ve opened the entire dating pool,” Holster says. He has a lot of other thoughts on the topic. “I could’ve suggested guys for Winter Screw. I would’ve set you up on epic dates.”

“It would’ve made things weird,” Ransom says, his tone flat.

He knows.

Holster sinks back to sitting on the bed, and this time he’s the one who keeps the space between them. “It wouldn’t have.”

Ransom just looks at him. “This is weird.”

“Only because you didn’t tell me.” That’s Holster’s story and he’s sticking to it. He is not examining deep thoughts that he definitely hasn’t been thinking about his best friend and roommate. He’s not.

“There was a guy in high school. Two guys freshman year. And one our sophomore year before I met March,” Ransom says. “No one since. And the answer is no, it’s not really different. All the bullshit about harder lips or the differences between men’s and women’s bodies is just bullshit. March was one of the most muscular people I’ve ever dated. She had a lot of sharp edges. And Eddie was overweight, and it didn’t matter that he has some curves. It’s just about kissing someone you like.”

“I don’t believe you.” The words slip out and Holster wants to facepalm at the fact that he just said that.

Ransom does. He sits with his elbows on his knees, face in his hands. “Next you’re going to propose we try kissing so you can see what it’s like,” he mumbles, the words muffled by his hands.

If Holster had been thinking just a little faster then yes, he probably would have. But hearing Ransom say it leaves him paralyzed. “Um. It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” he says slowly. “You’re bi. I’m curious.”

Ransom glares at him. “You do realize how rude that sounds, right, Adam? You’re curious, and I’m a handy bi mouth to mash your lips against to see if it’s gross or if you like it?”

That’s not it at all, but Holster can’t manage to force an explanation out. “I—”

Ransom sighs, his shoulders dropping. “It’s fine. We’re best friends, this is the least I can do for you. Guess I owe you for keeping it a secret. And you’re coming to me when you’re curious, and I appreciate that. It’s good that you’re talking about it.”

“Does Shitty know?” Holster asks, and he doesn’t need an answer from the way Ransom’s gaze drops. “Right. Okay. Of course Shitty knows. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t—”

“Do you want to kiss me or not?” Ransom interrupts him.

“Yes.” That one is easy to respond to. Holster wants to kiss Ransom. He’s been wanting to kiss Ransom for the last two years, ever since they moved into this apartment, started working at the same consulting firm. Ever since living in each other’s pockets became more intense, more real life and felt like it had some kind of a future.

Ever since Holster realized that he was half in love with his best friend.

Who obviously isn’t half in love with him since he left out the kissing boys part of his past.

“C’mere.” Ransom gestures, and Holster slides along the bed until he’s next to Ransom, their thighs pressed together.

When Ransom turns toward him, it pushes them even closer together. Ransom reaches for Holster, cradles the nape of his neck and tugs him down. He has his eyes wide open as if he’s waiting for Holster to say something, or pull back.

Holster licks his lips, grips Ransom’s shirt, and dives in like his life depends on it.

It’s different. It’s very different.

Not because he’s kissing a guy, but because he’s kissing Ransom. Justin Oluransi, the other half of his life both on and off the ice since they met freshman year.

When Ransom pulls back, Holster lets him go.

“See?” Ransom says. “Kissing is kissing.”

“No, it’s not,” Holster says, because he has to get this out. “First off—Justin Oluransi, that was the best damned kiss of my life. Second, I think we should do it again. Third, just how invested in this game tonight are you? Because I think we might have some things to talk about.”

Ransom blinks at him. “What?”

Not the reaction Holster was hoping for.

“There is a non-zero chance that I might love you in a more-than-best-friends kind of way,” Holster says slowly.

When Ransom grins, the corners of his eyes crinkle up, and it’s just one of those things that Holster really likes about him. Along with the fact that Ransom makes coffee at night, so Holster doesn’t have to in the morning, and Ransom is the only person Holster knows who might love spreadsheets more than him.

Ransom glances at the phone sitting face up on Holster’s night stand. “I think we have exactly thirty-two minutes to have a very intense conversation before we get on that train. And I think we can get a lot said in that amount of time.”

“Will we have time for celebratory best friends who kiss and potentially do other things as well ice cream?” Holster asks.

Ransom grabs Holster’s shirt, pulls him down to lie on the bed. “That depends,” he says. “On exactly how long the kissing portion of the discussion takes.”

“Enough to fully establish a proper set of data points,” Holster says, before Ransom’s mouth meets his. “Although I’m fairly certain that kisses given by you are already far away above all other kisses.”

“I don’t want to talk about the other kisses.”

Holster can agree with that. Less talk. More kissing. Best friends with bonus kissing and potential other things.

It doesn’t take much experimentation to prove that this is definitely a good thing.


End file.
